


And My Lover's Hands My Comb

by cloverfield



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Established Relationship, Fai is Happy to Indulge Him, Fai's hair, Hair stroking, Kurogane Really Likes Fai's Hair, M/M, Slow Sex, Tsubasa World Chronicle - Freeform, hair worship, sappy husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6297133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverfield/pseuds/cloverfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You always love touching my hair when it’s down like this,” murmured Fai, the words kissed against Kurogane’s mouth. “Why is that? Do you like me better with long hair?”</p><p>“I like you always,” said Kurogane, and dipped his head just enough to brush his lips beneath the edge of Fai’s chin. “Every part of you.” The kiss he trailed down the line of Fai’s jaw was slow and winding, and ended with Kurogane tucking his face into the softness that brushed over the curve of Fai’s shoulder to breathe deep and slow. “It’s just… nice. That’s all.”</p><p>“Oh,” said Fai softly, trembling a little, and then didn’t say much else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And My Lover's Hands My Comb

**Author's Note:**

> Have you seen chapter 19 of TWC? Have you _seen_ chapter 19 of TWC? Oh my god. _Oh my god._

The first droplet hit the slope of Kurogane’s forehead, trickling cool and wet towards his eyebrow, and made him blink against the heaviness of his closed eyes. Another drop, this time falling heavy onto the bridge of his nose where it slid sideways to run across the curve of his cheek, and Kurogane came more properly awake, still blinking into the soft gloom as the dips and valleys of the bedding beneath him swam into focus.

A distant swathe of light cut warmth across the floorboards, spilling from the open shutter of a lantern behind where he lay and bringing the shadows of the room into sharp relief; the third droplet hit his cheekbone, brushing the corner of his mouth as it rolled, and Kurogane caught it on the tip of his tongue: just water, mineral-rich from the baths and cool from the night air. He rolled over.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, Kuro-sama,” murmured Fai, voice soft, kneeling beside the futon. He could barely be heard over the rustle of sheets as Kurogane made himself comfortable on his back, and his smile was gentle as he fussed with the towel across his shoulders, hair tangled and wet and dripping down the thin cotton of his robe. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I thought you must have needed the rest.”

“Just dozing,” yawned Kurogane, and truthfully so; he’d never been one to sleep deeply, even if he was safe. “You took a while.”

Fai’s eyes crinkled softly at their corners as he smiled, coloured a deep laughing blue in the shadow of the lantern-light behind him. “Mm. I do so love Moko-chan, but having to help Syaoran chase her around the bathhouse for the soap is _not_ conducive to hasty bathing.”

Kurogane shrugged, rolling one shoulder and settling deeper into the pillows piled at the head of the futon. “Better you than me.” He’d already suffered his turn bathing with Mokona last night, and was happy to leave her to the kid to chase; bath time was _quiet_ time, and not to be interrupted by overly energetic manjuu.

Fai chuckled softly, and flicked the towel up and over his head, scrubbing it against the mess of his hair. A scatter of bathwater fell across the bedding and Kurogane both, tiny cool droplets tickling where they landed on sleep-warm skin. “That’s what woke me,” said Kurogane, content to watch lazily as Fai squeezed handfuls of his hair into the terrycloth. “You, flicking water all over the place.”

“My apologies,” said Fai dryly, and tossed his head beneath the towel. “How _ever_ shall I make my penance for such _disgraceful_ behaviour?”

“Stop talking like some damn lordling and come to bed,” huffed Kurogane, and with another yawn as his stretched his hand out from beneath the sheets to rest atop Fai’s knee, slipping beneath the thin cotton folds of his robe to trace greedy fingertips over bare skin; beneath his palm, Fai felt soft and cool and supple, chilled by the breezy night walk from the baths.

“Mm~? Kuro-sama wants me to retire so soon? It’s barely past the ninth hour,” and if Fai had always purred his words so throatily was it really any wonder he styled himself after a damn cat. “Why, if I’d known you were so _tired_ , I would have let you sleep.”

Kurogane's hand slipped higher, trailing across the length of Fai’s flank, thumb slipping into the crease of his thigh. “No one said anything about sleeping, mage.”

“Quite,” said Fai, and dropped his towel; it heaped softly on the floorboards in damp folds, quickly joined by his crumpled-up robe as Fai surged up onto his knees, stripping it away and baring his skin to the lantern light and Kurogane’s gaze both. Across his shoulders, fair hair tumbled in heavy locks, tangled and golden-dark with water; in the morning, the soft yellow mess would be creased with waves and kinks from Fai rolling across the pillows all night and all the more lovely for it.

“A shame you and I couldn’t have bathed together earlier, Kuro-sama…” Fai murmured, and now the colour of his eyes was deeper, shading to the dark and stormy blue of late summer evenings with rain heavy on the horizon. “You could have washed my back for me.”

“In a public bathhouse? Like hell,” muttered Kurogane, and forgot everything else he might have said when Fai kissed him, leaning across the bed and catching his mouth with the echo of a sigh. The hand he raised to Fai’s face slid across his cheek, curling into the tangled locks that tumbled down across his ear in a cool, soft spill; between his fingers, Fai’s hair curled like water, like silk, catching against the edges of sword-worn callus and tickling over his palm.

“You always love touching my hair when it’s down like this,” murmured Fai, the words kissed against Kurogane’s mouth. “Why is that? Do you like me better with long hair?”

“I like you always,” said Kurogane, and dipped his head just enough to brush his lips beneath the edge of Fai’s chin. “Every part of you.” The kiss he trailed down the line of Fai’s jaw was slow and winding, and ended with Kurogane tucking his face into the softness that brushed over the curve of Fai’s shoulder to breathe deep and slow. “It’s just… nice. That’s all.”

“Oh,” said Fai softly, trembling a little, and then didn’t say much else; simply tipped his head back beneath the stroke of Kurogane’s mouth, the glide of his tongue tracing the rolling swallow of that long, pale throat. “Mm.”

It was true, though, even if Kurogane couldn’t say all of why: the rich softness of it, the colour, the way it unspooled like silk thread cast from a skein to spill down narrow shoulders, or how it caught on the breeze to flutter across laughing blue eyes; how good it felt to bury his face in it in bed, to slide it through his fingers in a stroking touch or press a lock gently to his lips with careful, reverent fingers. Quiet moments like this, when Fai was bowed over him so that his hair fell in a tumbling curtain around Kurogane’s face, fresh and damp and scented with the wispy traces of water and soap, were rare enough in their travels to come by; not every world was safe or clean, and the chance to unwind with a long, slow soak was something to be savoured — and so too the time that came after, when they were alone.

“I love it,” said Kurogane, honestly, and if the admission was not something he would repeat beneath sunlight or where it might be heard by another, then so be it; this was a confession for Fai alone.

Fai trembled again, his hands falling to tangle in the bedding, and his voice was husky and soft when at last he whispered a sigh into Kurogane’s ear. “Far be it for me to stop you, then.”

“ _Hn_. Come here.”

Fai drew back the bedding and slipped under the sheets, but not to lie beside him, and Kurogane’s hands curled easily around the dip of his waist when Fai came to rest atop Kurogane’s hips and leant down once more. Soft hair dripped silkily across Kurogane’s chin and tickled against his eyelashes as he closed his eyes into another kiss, and when Fai’s hands slipped drowsily from his shoulders to his chest to trail shaky lines down the swelling cage of his ribs, it seemed only right to let his own hands rise up to glide across the slope of that arching back.

“Here,” said Fai, breaking away just enough to shiver the words warm and breathless against Kurogane’s mouth, “ _please_ ,” and slender, scarred fingers found his wrist to urge his hand upwards as Fai reached back, Kurogane’s fingertips brushing against the soft, damp tips of swaying locks. “I want you to.”

Beneath the touch of his fingers Fai sighed, and the weight of Kurogane’s hand against the back of his neck seemed to ease the trembling that had taken hold of narrow shoulders; when he first slid his hand up, up to curl through smooth strands in a stroking whisper, Fai hummed softly and stilled at last, settling heavy into the cradle of Kurogane’s hips.

“That’s good,” he murmured, and when Kurogane carded the blunt edge of his nails —gently, gently— against Fai’s scalp, teasing roughly through the damp tangles of his hair, Fai’s soft breath hitched into a gasp and he turned, moaning, into the caress. “Oh. _Yes_.”

Fair hair tumbled in small waves over the back of Kurogane’s hand, spilling through his fingers like seafoam, and when he eased himself up on one elbow, rising up just enough to rest his face against the graceful arch of Fai’s collarbone, the sound of Fai’s heartbeat swelled against his cheek like the tide rolling in.

“Kuro-sama.” Fai pressed his face into Kurogane’s hair, lips moving softly as slender arms slid over Kurogane’s shoulders and around his back. “ _Kuro-sama_.”

There was wanting in that voice, in how that mouth shaped his name, and in his wanting Fai was not alone; the heat that rose between them was slow and easy, tempered by time and patience and the languid feel of this moment — but it was heat still, bleeding through each and every touch.

“It’s _such_ a good thing,” sighed Fai, tilting his head into the curl of Kurogane’s fingers as he twisted a heavy lock of hair around them, eyes gleaming and wicked, “that you’re not tired.”

“Why?” The gentle tugging of Kurogane’s hand urged him down, and the spill of Fai’s hair over the slope of his shoulder brushed cool against Kurogane’s cheek as he leant up to catch that smiling mouth with his own. “You want to keep me up all night?”

The bright peal of Fai’s laughter shook against his lips, Fai ducking his head down helpless into the curtain of his own hair, and when Kurogane caught the lobe of his ear between his lips and sucked gently, nibbling with just the barest edge of his teeth, thin fingers tightened across the slope of his back, shivering across his scars as that laughter warmed into a happy, trailing moan.

“Oh, you only _wish_ you could keep up with me, Kuro-sama,” Fai murmured, hips rolling in Kurogane’s lap and his knees squeezing about Kurogane’s thighs. “But luckily for you, I’m feeling indulgent.” He huffed a soft breath upwards, blowing a stray strand away from where it curled across his forehead, and then ducked down quickly to kiss Kurogane’s eye, just below his brow. “Put your hands in my hair,” Fai said softly, and his gaze was as heavy and hot as the heart that beat slow in Kurogane’s breast, “and show me how much you love me.”

The sheets sighed in a clothy rustle, slipping free and crumpling beneath Kurogane’s thigh as his leg rose, and when he rolled up onto his side a little, pulling Fai down and atop him still, it was easy enough to kick the bedding down and out of the way. “I’ve always loved your hands on me,” murmured Fai, and his eyelashes fluttered soft in the warm light of the lantern when Kurogane threaded both hands through the fall of his hair and cradled him down to catch him by the mouth.

“It’s why I couldn’t keep mine off you. Even before, when I told myself I shouldn’t let you touch me,” he murmured, breath warm and lips clinging damply to Kurogane’s own, every word a kiss, “I couldn’t help myself. It just feels so _good_.” The tip of Fai’s nose brushed his cheek, and a bead of water —one of the last, rolling down a curl of barely-damp hair and glittering in the lantern-light— dripped onto Kurogane’s chin and slid down the curve of his throat, tumbling free and disappearing into the small, dark space between them.

“Here,” muttered Kurogane, swallowing hard; one hand dropped briefly to curl about Fai’s hip and urging one long leg up and over his own, bringing them flush together in a rush of hot skin. “Hold on to me.” He couldn’t stop his hand from gliding heavy over the flex of muscle in Fai’s thigh, stroking up the arch of that smooth back to tickle his own fingertips with the tips of soft hair, and the flat of Fai’s belly rolled against his own as Fai sucked in a shuddering breath.

“I want you to touch me now, Kuro-sama,” Fai said lowly, dropping his forehead down to press atop Kurogane’s own as that fair fine hair whispered around them both in a silky tangle, catching soft against the hand he curled around Fai’s cheek, and there was nothing Kurogane wanted more. “Please.”

The lantern-light rolled over them both, their shadows melting into one and thrown high across the walls as Kurogane tipped Fai down onto the mattress beneath him; and when he coaxed Fai’s leg up and over his hip to curl about the back of his thigh, the soft hitch of a sighing breath as Fai’s head tipped back against the pillows and Kurogane rolled their hips together in a slow and easy grind was enough to make his head spin with dizzy wanting.

“Yes, a- _ah_. Mm, mmhm.” Fai’s throat worked as he shuddered, and his hair slithered across the pillows as his chin tipped up, eyes closed and lips parting beneath the weight of each stuttering breath. His hands were heavy where they clung to Kurogane’s shoulders, Fai’s fingertips a slow and desperate drag down the slope of his back. “There, oh. T- _there_ —”

The slick slide of skin-to-skin and the heated press against his thigh urged Kurogane’s hips to faster cadence, and he could not help but give in, even as he struggled for control; the touch of Fai’s lips to his palm as Fai turned into the curve of his hand was no help at all, and without thought his fingers twitched and shook in tangles of soft hair, pale locks twisting around his knuckles and catching on the rough edges of hard callus. In the yellow light of the lantern, each strand gleamed like threads of silk against dark skin, gilt and glittering and more precious than any gold.

“You,” Kurogane managed, the word dragging through gritted teeth, as his head bowed and his shoulders locked, the heat in his belly a heavy pulse bleeding down, _down_ , “you’re just— you’re just so—“

“Come _here_ ,” grunted Fai, and surged up against him, thighs clamping in a vice about Kurogane’s hips as his words melted into a moan and his back arched, “come _on_ , come on! _Please_ , Kuro-sama, Kuro- _ss_ -sama _ah_ -!”

He didn’t mean to pull, his fingers spasming helplessly and his whole body shuddering as he collapsed down onto one elbow, bowed down and gasping with his forehead pressed hot and damp into the crook of Fai’s neck and Fai’s hair like satin on his lips — but Kurogane’s hand twisted still, tugging back in the same moment as his hips crushed down with desperate force and the soft hair in his grip spun taut between his fingers, skeins of silk drawn tight and urging Fai’s head back just enough to make him gasp in breathless delight. “Oh _hh~!_ ”

“— _beautiful_ ,” groaned Kurogane, and fell apart at last. Fai writhed and gasped and sighed beneath him, trembling happily as his hands clutched and squeezed, and the spill of slick heat that bloomed wet between them eased the last few stuttering thrusts into a slowing glide as they swayed and shifted as one.

“Mm, mm,” mumbled Fai, some time later, arms squeezing strong around Kurogane’s shoulders and his mouth pressing warm, damp kisses wherever he could reach. “Kuro-sama. My Kuro-sama. You really think I’m beautiful.”

It wasn’t really a question, but Kurogane answered it as such, sighing into the curve of Fai’s neck and pressing his face into the messy tangle of Fai’s hair. “Always.”

And if Kurogane dozed a little like that, with Fai pinned warm beneath him and the silky strands caught on his lips fluttering with every breath, then no-one else was there to see, and this man already knew everything of him besides.

“Sleep now,” murmured Fai, and stroked his hands —thin and scarred and so, so loved— long and slow down Kurogane’s back. “And when you wake, you can comb my hair for me.”

“Yes,” said Kurogane, and closed his eyes once more, nuzzling close into the spill of Fai’s hair to breathe deep and slow. “I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was completely indulgent and I blame Fai absolutely, beautiful bastard that he is.


End file.
